Can I Do This?
by mandaree1
Summary: Flim Flam ponders if he should give up his profession, the past, and his friends, the wonderful Mystery Inc. i own NOTHING! no clue why id ecided to write this! only good reviews, please!


**Flim flam is way o.c. in here, I know. I know flim flam would never give up conning; it was just something that wouldn't leave me alone. –dramatically- curse you evil plotbunnies! –shakes fists at the sky- DISCLAIMER I own NOTHING!**

…...

_Am I really ready to do this?_

Flim Flam pondered as he sat in the airplane with the rest of the 13 ghost finder crew (namely: Scrappy, Scooby, Shaggy, and Daphne). Was he really able to do such a thing?

Flim Flam was not your ordinary kid. Quite the contrary, from his name to his to clothes to his current occupation as a con artist/ghost catcher, everything about him screamed 'strange'. Normal, frankly, bored him. He liked adventure and mystery, which was the main reason he had gone with mystery Inc , the people who'd (accidently) saved him from a thrashing at the hands of angry village people, whom were upset of his selling his 'lottsa luck joy juice to, was because mystery and adventure seemed to follow them wherever they went.

Now, it was for a far more personal reason.

Rule number one of being a con artist: don't get attached. It was just bad business all the way around if you got attached to a client. It was the first thing Flim Flam learned in his career, and it was one of the few things he'd taken to heart. Yet somehow, someway, he'd managed to get attached to his unlikely mystery solving companions, especially scrappy.

Which brought up a necessary question in his mind: should he stop conning?

Conning was the only survival technique he'd had up until he'd met mystery Inc. his father being a poor minder and his mother being a women willing to do anything for a quick buck (hence, his birth. As soon as he was weaned, she left to continue her disgusting life (hey, even he had a line) he still had a hazy image in his mind of what she looked like, but that was all) he'd needed to support himself through life, so he'd taken up conning the wealthier people in the small Mexican village he spent most of his younger days in.

Everything had gone well, that is, until the mine his dad worked in collapsed.

They didn't give him a funeral. Instead they'd dragged his carcass (it'd taken them a while to dig up his body. He'd even started the decomposition process) through town in a small casket and left it for him to bury.

He shook his head clear of this thought. '_Back onto the topic, Flim Flam' _he scolded himself '_it's already a difficult decision as it is, don't bring the past into it.'_

As he had mentioned above, he was born and raise a con-man. But times were different now, and he liked mystery Inc, and he knew they'd want him to give up his thieving ways.

_Am I ready to give up a part of my life like this?_

He wasn't sure. It'd affect his life drastically, and his flow of money he had form his cons would have to be completely cut off. But, as a plus, his relationships with Daphne and Vince would definitely improve.

Daphne and Vince had never approved of Flim Flam's job, so going straight would make things easier for them all that way.

He placed his knees to his chest, crossing his arms over his knees protectively, blocking out all around him.

_Am I even strong enough or sure enough to make a final decision on my own?_

Probably not. He wasn't ready to stick to a decision that would affect him so much yet. Maybe he could do a trail run? That might work…

"heya, Flim Flam?" a voice breaks his reverie. He looked up from his yellow-clad knees into the concerned eyes of a Scrappy Doo. "Are you okay?"

He glances subtly around the cabin. He'd gained stares from everyone but the pilot (Daphne) without trying to. He smiled at Scrappy.

"Never better!"

"Are you sure?" Daphne questions from the pilots seat "you're being pretty quiet…" she leaves the question unasked. He already knows what she wants to know.

"Just thinking." Flim Flam supplied, the smile never leaving his face. Not many would worry about a con artist. Most would be more likely to throw him _out_ of the plane, instead of asking if he was okay. That's why he loved them. They really cared for him.

_Maybe…. Just maybe… I can do this._

**Again, I know Flim Flam wouldn't do this, the idea just wouldn't stop picking at my brain! No flames! WOOO I'm the first to write a Flim Flam centric fanfic on this site! Cool! Read and Review!**


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